A night mission over Iraq in the F-16

Ride along with F-16 pilot Nate “Buster”Jaros, as he takes us and his wingman for a night mission over Iraq to help an Army convoy in trouble.

It was a cold winter night over Iraq. It was 2003 and OIF (Operation Iraqi Freedom) was in full swing and US fighter aircraft were getting used to their regular un-impeded patrols over the country. Operation Southern Watch and Operation Northern Watch had recently ended and “Shock-and-Awe” was completed earlier that March as well.

All of Iraq was our playground.

At the time, just two fighters, and a tanker were the only things airborne, 24/7 over the war-stricken country. And maybe a few UAVs (Unmanned Aerial Vehicles) too. Air operations were slow actually, and modern airpower was more of a presence than an active participant…

Sometimes.

We were with the 510th Fighter Squadron, out of Aviano, Italy. The Balkan Buzzards as we were sometimes called, but more commonly known in the Viper community as just “The Buzzards.”

Our whole squadron and 20+ jets were deployed to Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar, and was supporting OIF as well as OEF (Operation Enduring Freedom) with daily and nightly two-ship sorties. A squadron of F-15E Strike Eagles was also with us, and we each alternated VUL (vulnerability) times over Iraq to maintain this 24/7 coverage.

Every four or five hours, a two-ship of Vipers or Mud Hens would launch from “The Deid,” head north along the Persian Gulf. The section would get gas entering Iraq and proceed to their assigned tasking, while also relieving the other squadron that was finishing their business over the country after a five-hour long sortie.

Airborne refueling before going in country

We typically had missiles (both long and short-range) on board as well as an assortment of 500 pound LGBs (Laser Guided Bombs) and GPS guided JDAMs (Joint Directed Attack Munition). We were a Block 40 F-16 squadron and also carried our primary “tool” the LANTIRN Targeting Pod. The Targeting Pod was an Infra-Red telescope basically that was cockpit controllable, and had a laser designator for LGBs.

On this night, I was the flight lead with my young but combat-proven wingman “Chaos” on the wing. Chaos and I were paired by the squadron leadership, and enjoyed flying together every other night or so.

F-16 with ‘chin mounted’ Targeting Pod

Leadership kept most flight leads and wingman paired over the course of the four-month deployment to help build solid and reliable two-ship teams. Keeping guys paired together really helped reduce errors and develop a sense of camaraderie as well as professional in-flight synergy. Chaos knew what to expect out of me, and I knew what to expect out of him.

On a typical mission we would have three or four taskings across Iraq. We would maybe have an hour with a JTAC (Joint Terminal Air Controller) providing high cover for ground forces doing building searches. We would then move on to oil and gas pipeline patrols, or maybe an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) road scanning tasking, or even Army convoy support. We typically had lots to do in one mission.

The Threat of IED’s

During this timeframe the IED’s were getting so bad across Iraq that they were an expected daily threat. Finding “bad guys” digging along road sides was quite common. “In August and September 2003, IEDs were responsible for more U.S. combat fatalities than the combined totals for direct fire weapons (small arms and rocket-propelled grenades [RPGs]) and indirect fire, the methods that had, historically, caused the majority of battle casualties” (Smith, 2011).

The aftermath of an IED attack.

Chaos and I had come off the tanker and were proceeding to North-Central Iraq. It was just a 15 to 20 minute transition as the tanker was orbiting nearby. Below us was a heavy cloud deck and seeing anything on the ground with our eyes, NVGs, or the “pod” was impossible. As we passed over various cities this dark night, glowing amber-yellow city lights lit up the low clouds below us and cast an odd eerie feel to the solid cloud deck.

We were assigned to convoy support for a line of Army vehicles near Bayji and Tikrit traveling south toward Samarra along the major North-South road that went from Mosul in Northern Iraq to Baghdad.

Army Convoy in Trouble

I recall checking in with the convoy commander on time, on the designated freq as they began their slow and nervous drive south. We reported that we couldn’t see them for the weather, but would support in any way possible from high above. We had their coordinates and with updates we could track their position and be ready to assist if needed.

We circled above their position, like buzzards, in the dark and cold night with nothing to look at but softly-lit orange clouds below.

I don’t remember any hostilities initially, but the convoy commander soon became loud and concerned about something. His voice changed a few octaves and we heard him halt the convoy. We heard him coordinating a lot of actions and activity as well. Something was happening below us.

It was typical for IEDs to be rigged for timed detonation, while others would detonate actively when a ‘bad guy’ typically hidden somewhere pressed his detonator switch at the appropriate time. Some IEDs could detonate automatically when they sensed a vehicle or a large movement, or noise…but those were rarer as they required more technology. In 2003 the enemy was just looking for ways to easily disrupt or kill our ground forces, and they were good at it.

The convoy commander indicated over the radio that they had some suspicious activity and personnel ahead, as well as intelligence reports that IED planters and enemy were all along this route near them, placing their deadly weapons and waiting. He informed Chaos and I that they had reason to believe there were IEDs a few miles ahead, due to the skeptical roadside activity they were witnessing.

Calling us in for immediate weapons effects was not typical.

Night convoy stopped

With no way to truly know if the people in the fields and roadside ahead were friendly civilians, kids playing, or bad guys, and no way to tell if that box on the side of the road was a bomb or just junk—there wasn’t much we could do at times. We could spend weeks bombing along roadsides and just waste a lot of weapons. Use of force was atypical for this type of problem.

The Show-of-Force Tactic

The preferred tactic was called a Show-of-Force (SoF). The Show-of-Force was akin to a shot across the bow, as they say. Basically it was one step before the use of actual force, and it was appropriate near certain high collateral damage areas.

In any fighter, a SoF equalled “be as loud, visible, and aggressively postured as possible.” A low pass with the ear shattering afterburner engaged was the preferred method. Additionally, intelligence reports told us that most enemy combatants would drop their weapons, detonate their IEDs, and simply run in the presence of any US aircraft. We used that fact to our advantage.

The commander requested a SoF from our two-ship, north to south, a single pass each. Somehow Chaos and I got below the weather and I remember emerging from the soup at about two or three thousand feet above the dark desert, with a clear, serpentine, well-lit road carving through the desert visible to the East…and on it were the tiny dots of a convoy, holding its position.

Getting low in a combat situation has the effect of heightening the senses. Not only was it dark and the unforgiving desert a real threat (from hitting it), but they had people down there that liked to shoot back. Anything below about 5,000 feet above ground level really got you on edge. Above that, there were no threats. Speed (and lights off) was life down low. NVGs kept you sane because at least you could see.

With clearance from the commander, we reported five miles to the north for the SoF. I went in first with Chaos offset and about two miles in trail. I lowered the nose toward the road as I aligned, and offset a bit to the right, on the west side. I would take the road down my left side, as fast as I could.

Accelerating through 300 knots, now lower, then 400 knots… I came overtop the convoy and plugged in the afterburner. The jet lurched forward as if kicked in the ass and I watched the fuel flow climb through 40,000 pph (pounds per hour) while the airspeed slipped past 500 knots. The road and earth was not far below me and screaming past at an incredible rate.

Then I saw the flashes.

Were they shooting? No those flashes were too big and bright. Did Chaos get hit I thought? No I could see his burner plume back there, following me and repeating my flightpath on the other side of the road.

Those were IEDs going off! One flash, two flash, then another!

Huge explosions flashed in the night, lighting up the atmosphere and casting strange flashbulb effects on the low clouds above us. Yet we could hear nothing. It was quiet in the cockpit, nothing to hear but the sound of cooling air flowing and the visual spectacle of the serpentine lit road passing extremely fast below. But down below, it must have looked like the 4th of July to the troops in the convoy.

We terminated afterburner approaching the Mach and became instantly invisible again. Over the inter-flight radio freq I told Chaos I was climbing back into the weather and headed for clear air. He followed and we quickly rejoined up above the weather, slowing our fire-breathing machines in the relative safety of altitude.

Our time was up and by now gas was getting low as well. “That ought to do it” the Commander’s voice crackled on the radio, clear happiness and relief audible in his voice.

We were set for one more tanker and then the long drive home down the Gulf back to Al Udeid. We checked out with the convoy commander and he had a few words of praise and thanks. It seemed that our SoF scared off enough bad guys and caused a few others to hit their detonators and run back into the deserts and towns nearby. Those Army boys would be safe tonight on their long slow drive. Pretty cool.

We reflected on the sortie as the pink sun rose over the dusty gulf on our way back home. I still can’t imagine the courage it would take to drive a vehicle in a war zone, knowing that any second it could just explode.

Post mission (Photo by Staff Sgt. Michael Holzworth)

We were glad to have helped, if even just a little… and with all our weapons still on board.

Buzzards rule!

Top Photo: An F-16 Fighting Falcon from the 510th Fighter Squadron, Aviano Air Base, Italy, flys a Combat Air Patrol mission. (U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Jeffrey Allen)

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Michelle B

Ha! I guess the "real thing" is relative. :)
My grandpa served in the Army Air Corps and fixed airplanes like C-47s (I only know that because of a labeled picture he had), and then reenlisted for Korea, was stationed "all over the world" with his family during his career (we tease my mom about being an Air Force brat), and he eventually retired from the Air Force after winding up with a teaching stint with AFJROTC in the local high school not far from where he grew up.
The sum total of MY experience is AFJROTC in my high school (a different one--my instructors came from Nellis AFB, and my grandpa was attached to Hill AFB).
So as far as I'm concerned (especially given the depth of information and wealth of knowledge above), you got the excitement (and earned wisdom) of the "real thing."
Your ECM bias is fabulous and most welcomed. Thanks for sharing all of that!

Carl C

I didn't actually experience the "real thing" as far as flying in the planes and fighting the SAMs. I was an Air Force "pogue" who fixed the ECM equipment on the Wild Weasel birds (at that time F-105 Thuds) so they could fight the SAMs and stay alive. In doing so, I had to attend classes on how the Weasels fought the SAMs so we would know how our equipment was used to help us better maintain and service it.
For example, in Nam, the SAM 3 functioned in three phases. In the search mode, their radar swept a large horizontal and vertical area out to about 25 miles. When they detected a target, the SAM would go into the targeting mode which restricted its search area to the target, meaning the frequency of sweeps would increase radically, and they would increase the power output of the radar to increase its accuracy.
The increasing sweep frequency and power output, what we called a power step up, told the Pilot or EWO (Electronics Warfare Officer, in the Weasels, he was called the Bear - don't ask me why) he was being targeted by a SAM 3 plus the SAM 3 radar sounded like a mosquito buzzing your ear. Yeah, they listened to the electronic sounds of the different radars and communications made with headsets.
So many seconds after the SAM would launch a missile, there would be a second power step up because the SAM operator would turn on his remote controls, which were piggie backed on the radar signal, therefore, increasing the power of the signal. From that point, the bear knew he had a maximum of 10 seconds to win the fight and escape before being blown out of the sky and a near miss could kill because the SAM 3 had a vicinity detonation device which would activate if the missile got within about a hundred feet or yards (I don't remember which) of the plane and shrapnel from the warhead killed more than one pilot.
There were a number of different tactics the Weasels used in fighting the SAMs with different tactics for different SAMs but, for the SAM 3, the basic idea was two Weasels would fly into an area trying to look like regular combat aircraft or even join the back of a group of two or more planes on a mission into the area. As soon as a SAM went from search mode to targeting mode, the Weasels would engage the SAM targeting them (the EWO equipment provided him with information such as direction and distance to the SAM.) From that point on, the EWO would tell the pilot which moves to make to attack the SAM and not get shot down. The Bear was literally a back seat driver during combat.
Normally, the Weasel would fly down the throat of the targeting SAM radar until he got the power step up from the missile guidance signal while locking his "radar seeking missile" (they now call them HARM missiles) onto the enemy radar because the radar antennae were on top of the control trailer. As soon as the EWO got the desired signal, he launched his missile at the SAM and gave the pilot the evasive maneuver to avoid the rapidly approach "white telephone pole" the pilot had been watching quickly get closer for several seconds. Their average life expectancy in combat was 10 seconds.
You can tell from the book that the Weasel job has changed just a weeeeee bit. :-) It is significantly more complex today.
By the end of the war, the Weasels got so good at killing all three types of SAMs (SAM 3, SAM 2, and SAM 6) that, as soon as the SAMs realized there were Weasels hunting them in the area, they would shut down their radar and take a break, preferably a safe distance from the SAM.
This became known as SAM suppression and the military used it when staging a significant attack to an area. The basic way it worked was the US military would send in Weasels to kill SAMs in the "corridor" the other aircraft were going to use for the entire mission until the SAMs turned off their radars and went home for the day or night. Then fighter planes would move in to suppress enemy fighter aircraft and, when that was accomplished, the rest of the aircraft would fly in, do their thing and leave, followed by the fighter planes and then, lastly, by the Weasels.
But the first and last planes in the area were always our recon birds to map out the electronic signals so everyone know where the SAMs and communications sights were and later find out how badly they had been damaged.
In ECM, we worked the birds in all phases of any missions because they all used some kind of ECM to defend against or attack SAMs and interfere with communications. We even had birds that did nothing but that like the RF-4Cs and EB-66s.
Here is a little fun history. Most people think ECM started during Nam because that was the first they heard about it but it started in the late 1930s when a team of generals and admirals went to see this new thing called radar. The team liked the radar and ordered the scientists to find ways the US military could use it. Then, one of the generals stated that, "we have this now but it will only be a matter of time until our enemies have it so, how do we beat it?" That is the day ECM was born.
Most people don't know it but ECM was used in WWII to counter enemy radar and communications. The B-17 had an Electronics Warfare Operator, it was the radio man, who was an enlisted man and not an officer. In one of my classes, I played with a B-17 jammer or black box that had been use in combat during WWII and saw pictures of a group of electronics warfare black boxes mounted or stacked along side the radio operators desk. He regularly used those jammers and rope chaff to interfere with German communications so they couldn't tell the fighter planes where the bombers were. "Can you hear me now?"
ECM has been saving US military lives for at least 70 years. We get the planes in and safely home to provide air cover for our grunts.
The most fun ECM was in the Weasels and B-52s for SAC. They had the best toys, well, except for the spy guys like U-2s, SR-71s, and others. I knew guys who worked all of them. It is a very interesting field because you have to study everything everyone has on both sides of the battlefield from submarines to satellites and there is a lot to learn. Much of what I knew, is still classified and they have better today. Some of it has been declassified so I can talk about it. For several decades, I couldn't talk to anyone about any of it.

Susan H

Thanks, Michelle. After your wonderful recommendation, I've just downloaded the audio book from my library to listen to as I drive to and from work each day. Hope I enjoy it as much as you!

Susan H

Thanks for the book recommendation, Carl; I've just ordered it from the library.

Michelle B

Best book recommendation ever!
I'm about four chapters in, listening to the audiobook while I commute. I was laughing SO HARD through the bar scene (with the uppity major after the first day of flying in Iraq) that I didn't even care that I was stuck behind traffic accidents forever on my way home tonight. I might have earned some curious sideways glances from my disgruntled traffic-mates, but the tears of laughter were totally worth it.
What a wonderfully descriptive writer! To quote my nephew--who dreaded reading until I introduced him to audiobooks--"It's like seeing a movie inside my head!" It's like sitting in the cockpit the whole way, cocky attitude, adrenaline spikes and all. (Except, thankfully, for the g-forces.) I'm excited for the rest of the book--bring on the long commute. :)
Thanks...and hats off to you for getting to experience the real thing.